ALMUHHHHH.

[two blog posts in one week! stupendous!]

We are getting closer and closer to the present day!


We be rollin on the rivaahhh.


French stop signs!


Fred and I were house managers first, and we had a tribal theme dinner.  I'm thinking I'd really like to do theme dinners with my family when I get home.


FACEPAINT.


We went to the beach later that week, which was super fun.  I built a sandcastle, but forgot to take pictures of it.  Everybody else kept making penis jokes.  It made me sad.


We also buried Thony.



It was windy.



Beach day was also our 200th day of Katimavik [Emilie, the PL: "Twohundredth?!  English makes no sense! Why would you put a D a T and an H all together?"], so Emilie and Jordan baked us a cake!


We went on excursion that took us through La Baie des Ha! Ha!


And then right across the street from the pyramid, someone had a Jesus effigy on their lawn.




Obvs we took pictures with the pyramid.


That night, we went to the Chicoutimi house for a visit.  This is Emilie with the Chicoutimi PL, Todd. This is him with his shirt on.


This is him sans shirt, showing off his hairy back.  Without thinking, I was like "Can I touch it?"  and he let me.  Good bonding moment.  Apparently we were then close enough for him to ask me what my sexual orientation was later, haha.  WHY ARE PEOPLE UNSURE?  It like that time Marissa and I went skating with our gym class in gr 12, and because I skate like someone who is not good at skating, I was clinging to her hand or the boards for most of it.  When we get back to the bus, the girl sitting in front of us turns around...

Her: Can I ask you something?  It's kind of awkward, I don't really know how to say it.
Me: Uhh, go for it.
Her: Do you like... penis?
Marissa: Please tell me you said peanuts.

Jeez.

Anyway, later on in the evening, some of us went for a walk, including Emilie, Todd, and JaceChaseTyler.



You remember him, right? PS we call him JaceChaseTyler because we weren't really sure what his name was at first, but now that we've been calling him that for so long, we have no interest in his real name.

Now, JaceChaseTyler, the enterprising young man that he is, was making paw gloves out of faux fur he found in the house for a wolf fursuit he is going to wear to an anime convention.  This led to a lengthy conversation, covering topics including, and not restricted to:
-why people wear fur suits
-if people actually do it in the fur suits like that episode of CSI
-if JaceChaseTyler did it in fursuits (no, but he knows people who do)
-what the difference between beastiality and zoophilia was

As I learned that night, zoophilia is where you have a hankering for one specific species.

Me: But what if you like, giraffes or something?  Would you go to school to become a zookeeper and then party after-hours?
JaceChaseTyler: I dunno, I guess you could.
Todd: So someone would spend years getting training so that they could be with a certain animal?  That's kind of hot.
Me: UHHHH.

I have decided I think Todd is weird.



Jord and Fred decided to shave their heads for cancer while we were at a Rase-a-Thon volunteering.


This is Jordan, after he broke the mirror with his good looks.


This is Fred, who I think pulls off the shaved head quite well for a girl.  If I shaved my head, people would just ask me if I was lesbian.  Not that I have anything against lesbians, but it's difficult to find a man if people think you'd rather date a lady.




Mummy night.



Ooh and I forgotted a picture from rotation camp.  This is LA's head in Fred's butt, if you couldn't tell.

rotation camp, the second.

[HAY GUYS, JUST TO LET YA KNOW, FROM THIS FRIDAY UNTIL LIKE THE 7 JUNE, I PROLLY WON'T HAVE INTERNET ACCESS BECAUSE MY BILLETS, WHILE VERY KIND, LIVE IN THE DARK AGES.  SO JUST KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU.]


It was time. Notice the bathroom scale we borrow from the lady across the road because most Katimavik houses don't have one because they promote eating disorders.  I would argue that not having one also promotes overeating in some adolescents (read: me) because they are unable to gauge their weight gain.  It is a sad life I live.


There's not much of a story behind this; I just like looking at pictures of myself.


At rotation camp, we found a GEOCACHE.  Now, for the uninitiated, a geocache is like a treasure hunt of the future.  People post GPS coordinates online, and then people look for the hidden box or whatever.  There's usually something in it, and then you can leave something too for the next person.  I went geocaching once with Alex's family at a church picnic.  We were on this horse trail, so obviously there were little chocolate treats everywhere.  We were looking and looking and the mosquitoes were biting and me and Alex were only in our swimsuits, and then Alex's dad bends over to pick something brown and oval shaped up.  Yeah, gross, I know.  Next thing I know, said poo is HURTLING TOWARDS ME AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT WHILE BROTHER LOEWEN IS GRINNING AND I AM SCREAMING AND AAAAHHHHH.  Oh, it's just a stick.  That's embarrassing.

We never found the geocache either.


I can't think of a witty caption for this one, but I already uploaded it and resized it, so the ox is in the mire, as it were.


We made a pretty collage that expressed our feelings and hopes and dreams and made the unicorns happy.


This is our group taking our turn as the meal clean-up crew.  I am obviously helping lots by taking pictures and holding Denver.


This is me reaching out to a loner kid who I can't quite remember the name of.

Oh wait, that's Jordan.


[hopefully it's visible, but the clock says 2:18]
In the proud tradition of rotation camp, many stayed up all night.  LA, Jessica, and my fine self found a secluded room where we could wait out the wee hours with each other.  ...Not like that.


We had a bit of a dance party.  I kind of look like a chipmunk.


*pant pant*
Note to self: dance more.  you are unfit.


At the airport at 6 in the morning.  We followed the two groups going to Labrador downstairs to group check-in cause we thought that was what we were supposed to do, turned out it wasn't, so Mik freaked out on Tom, who was in charge of the tickets, being like "Hey, why did't you check, I am so tired and I had to get up really early and you should have checked this is stupid", which made me REALLY irritated, because EFF I JUST STAYED UP ALL NIGHT AND YOU DON'T SEE ME COMPLAINING GO BACK TO FRANCE AND SCRATCH YOURSELF IN PUBLIC FAR FAR AWAY FROM ME.

Phew.


Partying at Timmy Ho's.  Toasted Everything bagel with Herb & Garlic cream cheese, anyone?
Oh also, remember the boy on the left.  That is ChaseJaceTyler, and there is a nice story about him coming in the future.


So, we're making our descent towards the Quebec City airport, and Fred and Andreanne just start bawling.  Very funny.  Like, yes, I love my province, too... now get ahold of yourselves!


After making fun of Fred and Andreanne, I looked and my window and saw this.
SO. MANY. PISCINES.
And it was like that almost the whole way to Alma.  Me and Jessica were aghast haha.


This is me drinking french milk.  That didn't end up killing the 4 hours we had to wait for the PG and Quesnel groups to be reunited with us, so LA, Jess, and myself took a nap.  I went the whole hog and whipped out my sleeping bag and pillow.  Tres cool.  Except when the bus got there and Mik jumped on my sleeping bag and was therefore lying on top of me and it was all I could do not to vomit.  The only person allowed to lie on top of me is your mum.


YAY ALMA HOUSE.

Next time I fly, it'll be back home to all of you!

sweat falls.

And so I continue my catching-you-up series of really picture-heavy, badly written blog posts.

SWEATLODGE.


For those of you who don't know, a sweatlodge is an aboriginal ritual where you sit in a pitch-black tent sweating like a beast while chanting and praying.  It was kind of cool, but mostly I just felt really sweaty and claustrophobic and I figure I already pray in more favourable climates, so I'll probably just stick with that.


Anyway, the inside of the lodge is covered in cedar to soak up all the toxic juice your pores squeeze out during the ritual.  We went and gathered it ourselves beforehand, and then Nicole, Fred and LA had to put it in the lodge cause they were the oldest women, haha.  In the middle of the tent, there's a little pit to put the hot rocks, and you don't put the cedar in that part 'cause then it'll catch on fire and that's no good 'cause then the tent won't be dark enough.


While waiting for the rocks to heat up in the fire, the guy told us some stories about other sweatlodges he did, etc.  He also told me to take lots of pictures, as he'd forgotten the batteries for his SLR, and he wanted pictures for his website.  I took a lot of pictures that day, but I have yet to send him any.


The rocks still weren't hot enough, so he told us to walk through the forest to the river.




The group had many different opinions on where the river was, and eventually split up.  I was trying to follow someone, but ended up alone.  But I found the river, cause I am a champ.


Then I was like, kay, I'm lonely, where are the people.


I couldn't find people, but I found a field.


And then, being alone, I hid in the grass and took pictures of my huge head.


After a tearful reunion with Fred, Tom, and Nicole, I then stood waaaaay behind them and photographed their butts.


It became evident that Mik and Andreanne were missing.  We ended up yelling Andreanne's name once for every 10 times we yelled Mik's because her name is too long.


"Blaahhhh where are they, this is so inconvenient for us."


They showed up after a looooong time.  Apparently they'd gotten onto the road and walked the wrong way.  Andreanne kept being like "Wait, I think I hear something" but Mik wouldn't listen. He's French.

NIAGARA FALLS.


The bald guy is Jordan's dad. Jordan's mum came too, but you can only see her glove and ear in this picture.  She's really adorable though.


That boat for maids.  A lot of my asian brethren were upon it.


We went to a Buddhist temple where they had 10, 000 Buddha statuettes, but we have no idea why, because the lady there only spoke Chinese and the sentence "Do not touch anything".


BUTTERFLY CONSERVATORY YAY.


Next time I go to a butterfly conservatory, I shall dress as a middle-aged Sikh man with good bone structure, because apparently they like that.


I like oranges too.


This was where Jessica and I paused to think about the ethics of keeping butterflies in captivity.  It sure makes them a lot easier to photograph.




Jessica, despite all appearances, is actually a middle-aged Sikh man.


I don't know these people.  They look nice, though.

Okay, now I would like to know why everyone complained about me not posting and then when I did, that post received the least amount of comments in 8 blog posts.


WHY MUST YOU HURT ME SO?


That said, all will be forgiven if you simply comment on this one.